


Comfort

by charivari



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Comfortbot Kup, Crack Pairing, Knock Out's Hard Knock Post-War Life, M/M, Post Predacons Rising, Post-war prejudice, Wise Kup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4045351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knock Out is stressed, Kup offers assistance. Knock Out/Kup crack pairing. Set after Predacons Rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write either Knock Out and Kup and thought why not together :3

Knock Out was swamped. 

With all the refugees turning to Cybertron and all of them needing checkups. There were no more battles but there were construction injuries. Years of war hadn't made builders out of soldiers. Progress was slow. At least the medical facility had received priority. Knock Out wasn't forced to work out of some derelict office. His equipment was the highest standard that had survived the war. But he was under-staffed. The war had prevented any new medics being trained and preexisting ones like Knock Out were few and far between. Ratchet was trying to remedy this. But his commitment to teaching left Knock Out to pick up the slack. 

Not that he didn't have experience with being spread too thin. He had been the medic for an entire warship. He was used to a high volume of patients. But that didn't mean it wasn't exhausting. And some patients were more taxing than others. 

Take Kup. He wouldn't shut up. He was like Smokescreen, Smokescreen with a lifetime of experiences to blather on about. Granted he wasn't the worst patient Knock Out had come across. Some bots were very vocal about being treated by a former Decepticon. Kup hadn't tried to spit in Knock Out's face. He just talked his audial off.

Right now he was rambling about petro-rabbits while Knock Out re-calibrated a knee joint. He was still rambling by the time Knock Out finished.

"Flex your leg," he interrupted.

Kup did as he asked. 

"Everything seems to be in order," Knock Out said before Kup resumed his story, "Your fuel levels are healthy. You should cut back on the cy-gars."

Kup had one clenched in his mouth at this very moment. In fact Knock Out had never seen him without one.

"You sound like Springer," he growled, "Leave an old bot to his pleasures."

"Do what you want," Knock Out huffed, "I mean, what would I know, I'm just the medic."

Kup eyed him rather solemnly.

"You seem stressed kid."

The statement set Knock Out's denta on edge. Kommandant Fragging Obvious here. 

"It's Knock Out," he corrected Kup, "And yes I am stressed. You would be too with the workload I have. My occupation didn't become obsolete when the war ended."

That was perhaps a little harsh. But there was little need for Wreckers during this new time of peace. They had been temporarily (perhaps permanently) assigned to building projects. Not quite as glamorous as constantly rushing into danger.

Kup vented,

"Building is a little different to what the boys and I are used. But we all have to contribute, in any way we can. Some more than others, since they have the skills. Mecha like you."

Knock Out was silent.

"I know it's not easy for you," Kup continued, "Being a former Con and all. Not a lot appreciation gets thrown your way."

"That's an understatement," Knock Out said sarcastically.

Kup gave him a look that was borderline sympathetic.

"It's hard for some to set aside old differences. There was a lot of pain, a lot of suffering..."

"On both sides," Knock Out pointed out.

"I realize that," Kup said, "I heard about your old partner."

"I don't want to..."

"Talk about it? Yeah I understand that. I been around a long time. Seen a lot of good bots come and go."

Not in the way Breakdown went, Knock Out thought.

"What's your point Kup?" he asked.

"My point is that you're a good mech. You take a lot of slag but you keep plugging on. I admire that."

Knock Out was taken aback. 

"You do?"

"I don't say things if I don't mean 'em."

"Er, thank you," was all Knock Out could think to say.

"I know my stories bore you," Kup went on, "I just thought talking might make you open up a little. Make you more comfortable."

"By sending me into recharge?" Knock Out attempted to joke.

Kup smiled around his cy-gar. 

"I could try a different approach."

He reached out and touched Knock Out's hip. The medic's mouth dropped open.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" 

The idea was ludicrous. Kup was so... old. 

"Not your type?" Kup asked.

"Not my generation." 

"Experience is nothing to sneer at."

He had a point. Kup had probably had his fair share of bots in his time. He was no luxury sport's car. But he wasn't hideous by any means. Kup's fingers were nudging over his seams and Knock Out felt his body react. It had been a while. The last time he and Bee had gone drag racing. 

That had been orns ago, before Knock Out's hectic schedule had set in. He was too exhausted in his off-cycle to do anything but recharge. 

But here and now, in the wake of Kup's proposition, he was decidedly alert. His engines revved softly. 

"You want to do it here, now?" he asked for the sake of confirmation. 

Kup grinned - a flash of that Wrecker daring. 

"Would you prefer I took you on a date?"

Knock Out grimaced. Being seen out with a rust bucket like Kup? He would be the laughingstock of New Iacon. Plus weren't Kup and Springer an item? He had heard that somewhere. Wheeljack maybe? Maybe it was an open relationship. 

Whatever the case, Kup was offering Knock Out a good time. His younger self would dived straight in. But current Knock Out was weighed down by responsibilities. 

"I have other patients," he told Kup.

Primus he sounded like an old fogey. He sounded like Ratchet. 

"No one at death's door," Kup said, "Tell 'em you had to give me a full service. They don't have to know it was the other way around."

"A full service?" 

That sounded ever so tempting.

“Sure lad,” Kup answered, “Lie back and let Kup take care of you.”

Knock Out did want to be taken care of. If it had to come from old vintage like Kup so be it. 

He switched places with the Wrecker on the operating berth.

“Do your worst,” he purred as the old bot settled between his legs.


End file.
